Free A Deadly Injustice by Ian Morson

this.
    â€˜Will we be there soon?’
    â€˜I have told you. It is six/five/four more days yet . . .’
    Taduesz was unusually silent, and just sat uncomplaining on his pony as it jogged along. Lin was his serene self, his nighttime encounter with Natural Elegance in T’ai-Yuan-Fu – if such it was – not being mentioned by me. But finally we crested a rise in the fertile meadowlands we had been passing through, and the city came into view. Beyond it rose the grey outline of far distant mountains, but Pianfu, as Lin called it, lay on a flat plain. From where we stood, I could see the grid-like pattern of streets and thoroughfares. The weather was cold but still dry, so a cloud of dust hung over the city. The curve of red-tiled roofs, like waves in a sea of ochre stretched for many li . The Chinee measure of distance was always unclear to me, but I reckoned on three li to make a league or a mile roughly. Let’s just say that as I looked over the plain, I could barely see the other side of Pianfu.
    We descended the hill and rode into the outskirts. Soon we were on a main thoroughfare, which must have been forty paces wide and ran through the heart of the city. Every half mile or so this broad road opened out into a square, around which stood large stone buildings. To my eye they looked like warehouses, and indeed most of the squares we passed through had a market of some sort. One sold game, and I could see stalls plentifully supplied with stags, harts, hares, and rabbits, and all sorts of fowl such as pheasants, francolins, quails and ducks and geese. Another square had all sorts of vegetables and fruits, strange to my eye, though I did recognize pears and peaches, and bags of raisins. The third square had stately buildings on all sides, but was quieter than the others. I thought it unusual, and trotted beside Lin’s carriage to ask why. He gave me a dark look.
    â€˜If you come here after dark, you will see more activity.’
    Stupidly, I still didn’t know what the business of the square could have been.
    â€˜After dark?’
    â€˜These apartments you see are the residences of women of the town. In the evening you will see them parading attired in great magnificence, and attended by many handmaidens. It is said they are highly accomplished in the use of endearments and caresses to suit every sort of person. I am told some foreigners call it the Square of Heaven.’
    I grinned, and cast a look around to see if any of the ‘women of the town’ as Lin euphemistically referred to them had risen from their beds. All windows were shuttered, however. Lin took the opportunity to remind me of our purpose here.
    â€˜You, of course, will be too busy to find your way here again.’
    As we passed through the centre of this vast city, curious eyes turned our way just as in T’ai-Yuan-Fu. My beard was quite luxuriant now, and I could not have looked more like the images of the demon Zhong Kui. A few of the people in the garb of labourer or peasant made a sign with their fingers, probably to ward off the evil emanating from my presence. The more prosperous, and so less superstitious, reserved their discreet glances for Lin Chu-Tsai. They could see our little procession heralded the arrival of an important official. Once again he was in his official court robes, and it was obvious he was a man of consequence. As if to further emphasize his importance, Lin clicked his fingers at a passing man. His fine embroidered robe suggested he was a prosperous merchant, but he still hurried over to Lin’s carriage and bowed low.
    â€˜What does your honour wish to know?’
    â€˜Tell me where the house of the prefect is located. This little town stinks, and I would prefer not to dally in it too long.’
    I stared with astonishment at Lin. His peremptory tone and denigrating words were quite unlike the man; especially as the city was so startling in all its aspects. But he